Tori

 

     “He’s going to kill you, Vita,” the flashy redhead pleaded as her silver sequined top reflected under the streetlamps, manifesting in dozens of tiny spots of lights that danced across the brick building and surrounding vehicles. “You can’t let that bastard walk all over you and stick around to be what, his punching bag? You deserve better sweetie.”

Tina, aptly nicknamed ‘Red’ by the brothers because of her siren rich hair, was here most nights, arm candy for her old man and best friends with Erik’s girlfriend, Vita. Neither of them had an ounce of self-respect. How could they? The women willfully came into this world, knowing the dangers within, and accepting the corrupted lifestyle that their partners lived by. Maybe world was a poor choice to describe this place. Hell. Yeah, that seemed more suitable for any place the members of Dante’s Disciples MC inhabited or frequented. My own personal hell.

     Standing behind the dumpster, I never meant to eavesdrop, but it was hard to ignore the fear in their voices. Their terror was mine too, the kind that settled deep in my bones and plagued me day in and day out, because there was no hope for an easy escape. What I would have given for friendship. Too bad I couldn’t trust anyone. I was marked property just like Vita and Red. Our lifestyles may have been the same, but I never chose this life. It chose me, and now, I wasn’t entirely sure I could break free.

     Red was fierce and compassionate as she struggled to make her friend see more clearly in the cramped parking lot of Second Circle. It was a lost cause. Vita could never leave Erik, any more than Red could walk away from her man, or I could skip away from Aaron without the promise of swift retribution. To do so would only mark us for death. That was the only way out of the Disciples stronghold.

     I glanced around the corner at the long row of motorcycles parked out front of the old brick building. The heavy metal beasts resembled a shiny stack of dominos in the night, just waiting for some drunken fool to nudge one and start the chain reaction that would topple them all. Red lectured Vita with such conviction, albeit, innocent, inexperienced conviction, while I stood by and watched in the shadows still wishing I had a friend as compassionate about saving me as the one Vita had found.

     It was always the same spiel from others. The empty advice so many people, namely the ones who had never faced abuse firsthand, preached in confident tones as though they were fucking experts on the subject. When in fact, nothing could be further from the truth. Victims knew the truth, they knew the cost of being with someone who got high off the power they felt when they inflicted pain.

    The folks that had never been touched by abuse meant well enough, but truthfully, they were viewing the subject with rose-colored glasses. My lenses had been broken years ago, and at this point, the so-called ‘sound’ advice was received as empty as my heart. I had become the leading lady in my very own after-school special.

      I wondered what people saw when they passed me on the street. Did they see a carefree young woman who was once an honor roll student, Captain of the Reddington girls’ volleyball team, and picked most likely to succeed, or did they see the new me? The hardened girl who had been forced to drop out of high school, kidnapped from her home by a man who murdered the title of father, and witness to the brutal beating and death of her mother.

     The sound of Vita’s rebuttal caught on the breeze and washed over me like a splash of cold reality. Finally, Red was giving her a chance to speak. A chance for Red to listen.

     “You don’t understand, Tina. Erik’s under a lot of pressure right now. The club is on him to expand the business.”

     Vita’s response came out shaky and I pinched the bridge of my nose, struggling to understand why that was the go-to response. She was trying to convince herself with that bullshit line as much as her friend. It was a trained response Vita had created to make sense of her fucked-up existence. I knew it too well. I had a few of those responses stored in my head too. They kept me sane when everything else was falling apart around me, gave me a false sense of hope that one day Aaron might be better, do better. It was ridiculous, naïve, and pathetic to make excuses for the men who hurt us. Even more ignorant not too.

     “Jesus, Vita. Listen to yourself. You can’t honestly believe that shit.” Tina fired back. Her arms shot out in exasperation as she tilted her chin back and searched the stars above for answers that would never come. Tina’s voice lowered a bit before she continued and I struggled to make out the words. “It’s getting worse. How much more are you going to take, sweetie?”

     Tina’s question made me cringe. It was just another frightening reminder of Aaron’s own behavioral patterns and the rapid decline. Red’s old man, Ratchet, was a fully-patched member and a Disciple in every possible way, except one. I had yet to see him lay a hand on Red that was anything other than affectionate. Possessive, yes, but that went without saying with this lot. He was a true needle lost in the haystack that was the Disciples. Then again, I didn’t know him beyond what my eyes had seen and I learned long ago that looks could be deceiving.

     I sighed, having grown even more depressed by their discussion, the full weight of my own circumstances heavy on my mind. I pushed the side door open on the dumpster and announced my presence with the screeching of metal against metal. The loud noise startled the women and drew their immediate attention as they glanced over at me apprehensively. I could see the silent question in their stare. How much had I heard? Enough to start trouble ladies, I thought to myself, but they didn’t need to worry about me going back to Erik or any of the other Disciple assholes with their secrets. I offered a polite wave, mustered a stiff grin, and hefted the contents of the trash can along the side of the dumpster. The glass clanged loudly as the contents transferred and my shoulders burned with the effort it took to lift and tilt the heavy trash can. Another quick shake to make sure I emptied it all and I relaxed, dropped the container back onto the ground, dragging it back inside.

***

     The early morning ended like every other one before it. The security detail, comprised of Disciple Prospects, who Erik assigned to cover the front door, finished dragging out the rest of the trash. As in, the bodies of drunken stragglers whose sorry asses were shoved into a cab. Once the building was clear of anyone who wasn’t on the payroll, the Prospects escorted the dancers to their cars and clocked out. The gesture wasn’t out of kindness. No, the girls who worked here were producers, meaning they brought in revenue, and the Disciples made damn sure to protect their shared interests. Beyond that, the men couldn’t be bothered with the comings and goings of a few attractive women.  

     The diminishing rumble of their bikes signaled the clean-up crew was all that remained. Vita and I worked quietly to tidy up the bar area. Unfortunately, that task also included wiping clean the counters and tabletops of whatever sticky food and drink the men left behind. I winced at the disgusting thoughts that ran through my mind every time I came across a questionable spot. I had seen far too many sexual acts take place within these walls. Other than a strict hands-off policy to keep the dancers safe, there were no rules. My own ass had been fondled and squeezed more than I cared to recount until Aaron started frequenting the place. The last man who had placed his hands on what Aaron deemed as his property was beaten within an inch of his life and tossed into the gravel parking lot for his friends to sort out.

     I looked up occasionally, silently checking on Vita, though she seemed unaffected by Tina’s earlier warnings. None the wiser for their talk, just as I predicted. A blush stole her cheeks the moment Erik sidled up behind her and pulled her hips tight against his own. Her disease and my employer, was stocky and strong. Beautiful to stare at, but deadly to approach. Erik kept Vita on a tight, short leash inside and out of the club. I should have felt sorry for Vita, but I couldn’t find it in myself anymore to sympathize. She was too far gone, a Stage-4 terminal case refusing treatment.

     What was worse than being numb? Realizing I was a goner too, because regardless of the abuse, in that moment, I was envious of Vita. I wanted what she had. The attention Erik gave Vita before the fallout. I closed my eyes and remembered those moments with Aaron. The sweet caresses, the whispered dirty words and indecent proposals that left your skin hot with want and the inside of your thighs slick with need. That was why she stayed afflicted. She was addicted to him and he had her fix. Erik knew the exact dose to dish out to keep Vita coming back for more.

     I watched as the two of them started down the stairs. Another routine in the night’s close-out. Erik pressed his hand firmly across the small of her back, coaxing her forward before stopping short. He peered back over his shoulder, his eyes searching the room. A common habit among the brothers, constantly looking behind themselves because of their jaded lives. Not out of guilt, but a precautionary paranoia they hoped would keep them alive. Erik’s hard blue eyes locked onto mine and I averted my gaze quickly to resume cleaning. It was dangerous to gain any of the brothers’ attentions. It was never kind and often deadly. There was no room for curiosity in the club.

     I stacked the chairs against the far wall and let Cache, the lone bartender for the night, know I was done. He usually mopped the floors and locked up behind us. I walked out of Second Circle and pulled in a long breath. The early morning air was full of moisture and the hint of decay. The pond that sat across the road had been stagnate for years and the water smelled as foul as my life had become.

     I found Aaron waiting by his bike, scrolling through messages on his phone. When I came to stand beside him he barely acknowledged me, far more interested in the naked selfie on his screen. I recognized the woman’s overly-made up face from the clubhouse. She was a regular hang-on that frequented the spot. I knew better than to look wounded anymore. It wasn’t my place to question his fidelity because he didn’t have to be monogamous. That was my job. Club rules weren’t for the ladies’ benefit. I placed my tired hand on his shoulder and swung my leg over the back of the bike, settling into the worn leather seat and waiting for Aaron to take us home.

     Home, I thought. What a terrible word to describe your own personal hell.